Nothing to Fear

Filmmaker Yoav Shamir thinks anti-Semitism isn’t much of a problem. Is that a problem?

By Stuart Klawans

November 19, 2009 • 1:00 PM

Yoav Shamir, the director of Defamation(Courtesy First Run Features)

Trailing praise and controversy as it comes off the festival circuit onto neighborhood screens, Yoav Shamir’s documentary Defamation offers viewers a first-person excursion into the subject of anti-Semitism: a phenomenon that the filmmaker often hears about, he says, but doesn’t quite know why, since as an Israeli he’s never experienced it. From this teasing premise, Defamation goes on gleefully to propose that anti-Semitism matters less today than many Jews would like to believe. The glee part is a problem, I think, and I’ll get to that. But first, to avoid defaming Shamir, let me be precise about what he’s actually doing.

Fair-minded viewers will not accuse him of having denied that some people still spew horrendous stereotypes of yid and kike, given that he practically begins Defamation by interviewing one of the offenders: his grandmother in Jerusalem. Jews? They’re nothing but schemers and layabouts, she tells him, liquor-store owners and interest gougers, too lazy to do any real work but skilled in every sharp practice. (Her definition of “Jews,” I should note, is limited to those in the Diaspora.) Shamir also records, and argues with, some equally noxious slurs voiced by African-Americans on a streetcorner in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, where the Protocols of the Elders of Zion continues to win adherents because, look, you can see it checks out. Moving from word to deed, he visits a synagogue in Moscow, where an intruder had recently expressed his opinion of Jews by attacking some of them with a knife.

That said, Shamir is not bent on amassing evidence of widespread, virulent anti-Semitism (as Marc Levin tried to do in his 2005 documentary, Protocols of Zion). He is interested, rather, in a different project, and a legitimate one: examining the moral effect on Jews in general, and Israelis in particular, of their persistent fear of anti-Semites.

To explore this topic, Shamir proceeds in the most labor-intensive tradition of documentary filmmaking, carrying his camera through three continents, poking its lens into the ongoing lives of more than two dozen people and developing the material he gathers into three intertwined storylines.

In the first of these, he follows Abraham Foxman, national director of the Anti-Defamation League. Shamir visits with Foxman’s staff in New York; attempts (with often comic results) to find an appropriately blood-chilling case of anti-Semitism in the ADL’s register of reported insults and slights; and then accompanies Foxman and some ADL donors on a visit to Eastern Europe.

Rotund, bustling, and quick to smile, Foxman appears in these scenes as someone who is open enough to give Shamir the run of his office and thoughtful enough to discuss with him the contradictions of the anti-anti-Semitism trade. (Foxman explains that foreign political leaders receive him respectfully only because they believe he has the ear of the United States government—putting him in the position of subtly reinforcing the myth of Jewish power, even while he combats it.) Shamir confesses in voiceover that he admires the way the ADL director handled a high-level meeting—you get to see it and judge for yourself—and concludes that Foxman is so highly attuned to threats to the Jewish people that he might be thought of as an early-warning instrument. As much as Shamir may be at odds with Foxman as a political figure, he seems to like the man.

The reverse holds true in the second storyline. In this part of the film, Shamir interviews academics—including Norman G. Finkelstein, author of The Holocaust Industry—who argue that the Jewish community’s institutionalized preoccupation with anti-Semitism is exaggerated and that it serves the unwholesome function of forestalling criticism of Israeli policies toward the Palestinians. I think it’s fair to say that Shamir endorses this position—but, again, his presentation of it has surprising nuances.

The first time you see Finkelstein, something of his character comes through—enough to make him a gift to the filmmaker, as a painfully spare, frighteningly high-strung contrast to Foxman; but the unambiguous purpose of the interview is simply to draw out his views, and so to advance Shamir’s. The second interview, though, is all about character, and it’s a catastrophe. Raging, railing, unable to keep still, Finkelstein sarcastically tosses off a Nazi salute for the camera, after which the action really heads downhill. By the time it hits bottom, you feel that Shamir might assent to many of Finkelstein’s ideas, but he could never give this man his trust.

The characters who do claim Shamir’s heart, and the film’s, are the Israeli high-school students in the third storyline: unguarded, boisterous, impressionable kids from Haifa, who are being readied for their military service (including duty in the occupied territories) by being taken on a curriculum-approved trip to death-camp sites in Poland. As their tour proceeds, you see that no effort is spared to convince these young people that for Jews, the world will forever be an all-enveloping cloud of hostility, capable of shooting out bolts from any direction, at any time. You observe the change come over the kids as they incorporate this lesson; and if you’re like Shamir, you fear for them—and for the people who will soon be in their rifle sights.

Defamation does a remarkably good job of blending and pacing these complex, wide-ranging storylines. The film’s method of argument is honest—Shamir neither disguises his opinions nor conceals those of others—and the globe-trotting is justified by any number of discoveries made along the route. But the most appealing feature of Defamation, the one that really sells the film, is the jocular, somewhat faux-naif manner that Shamir adopts. He makes it fun to think about Jews overburdening themselves (and others) with their fears—and this, as I said, is a problem.

So long as Defamation plays to an audience of Jews—the film’s own subjects—Shamir’s light, satirical touch can only be welcome. But audiences of other backgrounds will also be drawn to the film—because it’s enjoyable, because it advances a political critique that many people want to hear, and also (let’s not forget those street corner anti-Semites) because its representative Jews sometimes come off as moneyed influence-peddlers. Let me be clear: on the whole I respect what Shamir has done in Defamation, and I think that Jews really ought to have the minimum of courage required to see his arguments aired. But having grown up as a Christ-killer, bloodied on the streets of South Chicago, I may perhaps be forgiven for lacking the full measure of mental freedom that Shamir would like me to have. When I consider how this film might play when we’re no longer talking just among ourselves, I start to think that it’s no laughing matter.

Stuart Klawans is the film critic of the Nation and author of the books Film Follies and Left in the Dark.

WAIT, WHY DO I HAVE TO PAY TO COMMENT?
Tablet is committed to bringing you the best, smartest, most enlightening and entertaining reporting and writing on Jewish life, all free of charge. We take pride in our community of readers, and are thrilled that you choose to engage with us in a way that is both thoughtful and thought-provoking. But the Internet, for all of its wonders, poses challenges to civilized and constructive discussion, allowing vocal—and, often, anonymous—minorities to drag it down with invective (and worse). Starting today, then, we are asking people who'd like to post comments on the site to pay a nominal fee—less a paywall than a gesture of your own commitment to the cause of great conversation. All proceeds go to helping us bring you the ambitious journalism that brought you here in the first place.

I NEED TO BE HEARD! BUT I DONT WANT TO PAY.
Readers can still interact with us free of charge via Facebook, Twitter, and our other social media channels, or write to us at letters@tabletmag.com. Each week, we’ll select the best letters and publish them in a new letters to the editor feature on the Scroll.

We hope this new largely symbolic measure will help us create a more pleasant and cultivated environment for all of our readers, and, as always, we thank you deeply for your support.

Hi, I just thought I would post a comment and inform you that your website layout is really screwed up on the Firefox browser. Seems to work good in Internet Explorer though. Anyhow keep up the good work.

It appears that you have placed a lot of effort into your article and I require more of these on the net these days. I sincerely got a kick out of your post. I don’t really have much to say in response, I only wanted to comment to reply wonderful work.

Isa Colesays:

January 15, 2010 - 5:36 am

Hi, as a convert to Islam events in Palestine/Israel are quite close to my heart but I am often disheartened to hear the inter-changeable terminology used by many of the Indio-Pakistani Muslims in my area. They will often use the term Jews or Jewish instead of Zionist. This is a deep seated anti-semitism that can, which if care is not taken, grow into fully fledged anti-semitism. This film is perfect for the non-Jewish community as it displays the different views within the Jewish community and can give opponents of the Israeli state a refreshing spectrum of views rather than the homogenous view that is often at the fore of the media. I will be encouraging as many of my Muslim friends to watch this. I am a great believer that 90% of the negative views towards Jewish people are due to the policies of Israel, just as I believe that 100% of negative views towards Muslims are due to the actions and behaviour of the Muslims.

Isaac Haskiyasays:

February 3, 2011 - 5:18 am

May I be as sarcastic as Normy and rearrange his facial bone-structure or shall I respect his democratic right of making a nazi salute to his own people?

You can definitely see your skills in the work you write. The world hopes for more passionate writers like you who are not afraid to say how they believe. Always follow your heart.

Name (required)Email (required, will not be published)Website (optional)

Message

2000

Your comment may be no longer than 2,000 characters, approximately 400 words. HTML tags are not permitted, nor are more than two URLs per comment. We reserve the right to delete inappropriate comments.